KHR Discover my wings
by Sapphire and Emeralds
Summary: It's so much more. It's a dam that falling piece by piece, tearing itself apart as it drags everything down with it. And then, everything falls into place. Or, when Iemitsu isn't as careful as he thinks and Tsuna reawakens his flames. Healing from a depressed, disassociated soul, he has a chance to live. Gender fluid, multi flamed Tsuna that has cloudy habits. Different guardians.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Katekyo hitman reborn belongs to Akira Amano****, I only take credit for my own added character's and storylines. **

**BTW, I have a Ao3 account where I'm also publishing, if you prefer reading it there~.**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter 1 ~ Awakening the blood**

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The day that would change the course of the world started rather normally.

As far as days usually went, It hadn't even been all that important. He'd been timidly holding his Mama's hand as they walked through the crowded streets. Light shopping in each of their free hands as they returned home for dinner. In truth, he'd practically been hiding in her shadow, jumping in anxiety at the slightest sounds.

He's not sure what happened next. Everything becomes rather blurry after he spots the men in black suits. He remembers being scared, not surprising, seeing how even a small puppy frightened him back then. But he was, and for some reason, somehow, he knew that they should run as fast and far as possible.

They didn't of course, they were civilians, unknowing of the dangers of the underground. Blind to how terrifying the darkness they walked on was.

Afterwards, whenever he looks back, he remembers how amateurish the whole attempt had been. How they had been hauled into a deserted apartment complex, and how lucky they were that the people in question had lacked the experience of a professional level assassination.

But that wasn't here or now.

The kidnappers in question looked rather pleased, as one of the men (in his twenties, his not quite sure what type of smile the man in question is wearing, but it sends a shiver of terror up his spine) walked towards them, lifting his hand in a fluid movement. He doesn't even bat an eyelash as he pulls the trigger, a resounding echo coursing through the abandoned room.

In an instant, Mama was on the ground, a puddle of red (blood blood blood) growing at a terrifying rapid paste underneath her.

They **murdered** her.

They were going to **murder** him.

For the briefest of moments, everything is stopped, his mind completely blank, refusing to prosses everything that happens as the world itself comes to a standstill. He stares incomprehensively at his mother's unmoving figure laying on the ground.

And then, it all starts crashing down on top of him.

...he was going to die... he didn't want to die. He didn't want to die. He... Nono_nononoNONO**NONO**_!

The refounding echo of the gunshot reaches his ears, momentarily defending him from the proximity. His vision is faded, skin practically feeling the ice-cold metal sensation of the bullet colliding on his forehead as his body would fall onto the ground as it joins his mother's.

And then it _brakes_. It brakes _loudly_, poured so strongly, feels so **alive** that it takes him a moment to realise that it isn't the bullet that's shattering or his skull that's fracturing.

It's so much more. It's a dam that falling piece by piece, tearing itself apart as it drags everything down with it. And then, everything falls into place.

It's slow. It's so pathetically _slow_. And it's surprising, because he realises his thinking of the bullet.

It...it hadn't even left the barrel yet. Still barely moving as his body is already moving outside the bullet's trajectory. Oh, he knows it's still going to hit him. But... he doesn't know how he knows, but he does. _It **won't** kill him_. It'll sting, yes. It'll hurt, and it'll leave a scar to heal. But it won't kill him.

His instincts take over, body moving without conscious input. And with it, the world starts burning with him in at the very heart.

Because they hurt his mother. His sweet, caring, mother that has always been there for him. Loved him when everything and everyone rejected him. Comforted him when he cried. That had done absolutely nothing wrong, nothing to deserve something like this.

And it **burns**. Everything around him ignites, flames coming to life as they lit up. A pillar of firestorm inside a dance of bullets. And he's not sure what's happening, it's his body, and he knows he's the one doing it, but it all moves too quickly, or he does.

Truthfully, the men are hardly moving, though he's unsure whether it's from shook or if because he's to fast. And... he doesn't care. Not really.

Because they were going to burn. One way or another, they wouldn't be the ones who'd be walking out. He vows it on his will to live.

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It was... well, truthfully everything had become rather confusing, he mused tiredly as he rubbed his templates.

From the soft ticking clock next door to his mother's soft breaths as she sleeps on the bed, to the crying child that was three floors _below_ him.

From the unknown knowledge, he possessed that every adult stood between weariness and fear towards him, to the fact the doctors weren't sure if his mother would wake up again.

She **would**, of course. He wasn't sure why they thought she wouldn't, but he knew she would and that was what mattered.

Perhaps, because he felt safe, his mind would return to the memories of the men that had tried to assassinate them. Or rather, the fact that they had done so with no prior preparation or plan, seemingly ecstatic that they had found them.

Which meant that they had recognised them from somewhere, or, at least recognised something about them. Something that had been enough justification to murder a mother and her seven year-old-child the moment they were spotted.

There were only so many links that could raise that reason, all of them linking to a complete blank that had his instincts screaming at him. A blank that was also known as Iemitsu Sawada.

He flinched, eyes momentarily closing as the feeling of another migraine of spinning thoughts formed in his mind. A hurricane of memories of a bright and _beautiful_ flame forming in the palm of his hands.

Only for it to disappear mere seconds later as his forehead...

A frown formed on Tsunayoshi's features as he tried to make sense of the disarray memories. Those beautiful flames had disappeared when that man (elderly, hed been told to call him grandpa) pocked his forehead. Who was that? ... Iemitsu boss... but why visit them, why was he so familiar?

Hed... hed visited them almost three years ago...

When his migraines had started occurring. When the words had started floating. When his sharp instincts were all but destroyed. When his attention started escaping him. When the world started spinning. When it became to difficult to concentrate, to coordinate, to think, to bond... to live.

When everything inside of him became cold and broken.

Tsuna blinked, his hand reaching out to hold his mothers tightly as his eyes become amber coloured.

_Never again._

And when his mother woke up, he held her tight enough to never let go again.

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In retrospect... he really should have expected someth8ing of this scale to occur.

Well, at least the bullying had stopped.

That being said, he wasn't sure how he felt about the bullying being replaced with fear. The Maths teacher wanted him expelled, as did the Science teacher that glared at him venomously. The English teacher was surprising neutral in his opinion, while all the remaining teachers flinched at the slightest of glances.

The headmaster was considering expelling him, the deputy headmistress was quite vocally demanding it.

Tsuna blinked. He hadn't been anywhere near this observant even before that man had... well, ever since whatever that man had done to him. And even then, from what he did remember, there hadn't been any sixth sense level awareness.

He knew the exact location and movement of the six hundred and eighty-two students that were in this school. The heartbeat, breathing rate, state of mind, directions. And if he focused on it, he could tell what they were writing down, every single tiny detail, from the number of people walking outside the school grounds to the different types of car's that were passing on the driveway. He needed to learn how to restrict it, and he needed to do so fast.

So far, his efforts were... contraventional. He'd managed to suppress the amount of input his brain gave him, yes, but... it, unfortunately, did nothing for the numerous migraines it kept giving him.

And all of that was without the lip reading he had been more than happy not knowing existed.

"Why hasn't Sawada been expelled yet? He's a..."

"...authorities... self-defence..."

"... _self-defence_...he's eight? ...can't..."

It'd been near a month since then, three days since he'd return to school. Oh, the doctors, police, and everything in between had tried getting him to return before. He'd refused venomously of course. He barely left his mother's side until she had woken up.

It was only because she had woken up that he could no spend time musing over the more... mundane issues.

He was no good, Dame-Tsuna, the school loser. So why? Why was everything in school so bland, so boring, so monumentally easy?

He rubbed his templates, and action that was practically becoming a tic, as the school bell rang. It was one thing to ignore the teacher's because they were a child, trapped in delusions of freedom of the playground. It was completely different if it was because one could instantly understand and apply everything the teacher said.

He'd gone from one side of the school grade spectrum to the other. For a _second_ time!

That man was somehow involved in everything, his instincts were shouting (or maybe cheering?) so. And, while not quite the same, the fear he'd felt then had been eerily similar to the one he'd felt when he saw the gun. Fear... Hed felt fear for his life. Not only his life, but there'd also been something else there... something from inside that he hadn't quite understood back then.

And then he had yesterdays (might he add physics and logic destroying) headache. Tsuna would have liked to remember that day with fondness, the day a small, warm flame formed in his hand, a beautiful colour that reminded his of the start of a sunset.

Of course, hed instead maniacally waved his hand as he rushed it under the tap. Because of course, he'd burnt himself. Pyrokinesis without fire resistance? ...really?

It did, however, give him a good idea as to what those men had been after. So Pyrokinesis was common enough for it to be known by certain (and powerfull, if their appearances were any indication) circles knew about it.

And if it wasn't public knowledge, then there was probably a very good reason why it was kept a secret.

Pyrokinesis... and he'd been physically recognised...

Tsuna came to a stop, eyes darting towards his reflected image on the display window as he tilted his head thoughtfully. He was severely lacking in knowledge of anything related in Pyrokinesis, true, but as for his image... perhaps some change would prove to be wise?

Those men had only sent a glance towards them before they'd been recognised. So... it would stand to reason that changing his more prominent characteristics would serve as a layer of protection. A change of name would have also been convenient, but he neither had the knowledge or contacts to achieve so.

Hair dye would be a must, perhaps a pair of glasses with plain glass and... well, coloured eye contact's were a possibility, but he wasn't sure on how much they could rely on their current budget, and until it became more stable he wasn't willing to-

"Hey, I'm talking to you!"

Oh... he'd somehow completely ignored them walking towards him. The problem? He'd known they were approaching him, subconsciously at least, but had completely ignored them. What good was a radar if you didn't bother reading the actual thing?

All three of them were bullies, but... well then, his mind was at an absolute blank as to anything that wasn't brought up through observations. So... years detachment had made him cynical enough that idiots were forgotten.

And they were idiots. Why else would they confront him?

"Can I help you, senpai?" He tilted his head just for the effect, alongside the emotionless question.

The three flinched, the rumours of him being a seven now eight-year-old murderer at the front of their mind. Ah, the amenable mind of children.

...was he included in that category? ...food for later thought.

"S-Shut up!"

He'd once considered them terrifying...

_How?_

Yes, they had bullied him for years. And yes, he still had countless traces of bruises from months ago that alone testified of (social) abuse...

But in comparison with everything else? A grain of sand in a desert didn't even begin to describe how insignificant he found them. Which... honestly, he was starting to wonder if perhaps some of his personality had changed. He was fairly certain that he was still the same person, but-

Tsuna blinked.

All three idiots were splatter over the ground, idiot one and two unconscious with idiot three clutching his stomach through irregular breaths, eyes staring at him with a mixture of shock and fear. Huh.

_What?_

Had he... just thrown them around?

Okay, backtrack a second. Idiot two had attempted to through (a rather pathetic) punch to his shoulder. On instinct, he'd tripped two with a simple sidestep followed by a relatively weak blow to the neck.

He'd moved his body in a fluid motion, punching idiot three in the stomach before throwing him towards idiot one, immobilising him as he was knocked out with a single punch.

He... had no idea what just happened.

No. Just no.

He would... just walk away...

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"I think it might be a good idea to look into living somewhere else." Her son comments impassively, head leaning on one arm while his other holds one of the many papers.

Nana couldn't help but grimace. Those were accounting papers.

It wasn't that she was bad at handling the accounts. Truthfully, she had done a fairly good job balancing the money between what they needed and what needed to be saved for emergencies. Tsuna had simple been better at managing them.

"Oh?"

Her eyes dart towards her legs. The doctors had explained that there was a low chance of her ever being capable of walking again. Unfortunately, the treatment she was receiving wasn't cheap. Which was where the problem was. It was slightly above the amount Iemitsu sent them each month.

Which left them living on the emergency savings.

And that thought opened another can of worms shed been hoping to avoid. Iemitsu. She loved him. She well and truly was head over heels for him. Loved how he promised her the world. His smile. His easygoing personality. His fierce protectiveness. The way he made her feel the most important woman in the world.

Anything else. Anything else and she would have forgiven him in a heartbeat.

"It's just that it would make everything easier. We could buy a one-floor house. Nothing luxurious! Something simple. But if we managed to rent this house we could probably make it all work out..." Tsuna-Kun trailed off, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he reached for his warm mug in an attempt to stay awake.

But her (eight-year-old son, whose birthday had been in a hospital) was working through they account because her husband hadn't answered any call for the past month. Her beautiful son that had **cried **hysterically because he had been fearing that she wouldn't make it through the operation.

When else should her husband be needed but then?

Hed saved her life by taking their kidnapper's. When else should her husband be needed but then?

Love truly could be cruel. Because for the first time, she could feel _bubbling seething rage_ building at the very pit of her being. Memories of soothing her weeping son returning to her mind caused her to glared vehemently through the window towards the emptiness that was her husband.

"And you haven't already thought of something?" She asked with a teasing smile, suppressing any thoughts of Iemitsu.

"Well..." He returned a soft smile as he picked some papers from the desk.

She failed. She couldn't help but repeatedly have that thought slammed into her each time she looked at him. Because her son had been broken since Iemitsu's last visit. Whatever Iemitsu's boss had done, it had broken Tsuna. She hadn't realised it immediately, but his balance (which she'd always teased him by calling him Mama's little ballerina) had disappeared. His top of the class grades had made a 180-degree spin. His group of friends had completely abandoned him.

Prehap's, calling him broken could sound cruel to others. But Nana could think of no other words to describe what those men had done to her son.

She was fairly certain that he'd been suffering from dissociation, and knew that he had been suffering through depression. And the doctor's outright dismissed her the second they saw her son.

It felt similar to some subtle suggestion, one shed felt it herself. The need to ignore her son's welfare. Something she hadn't realised until she'd woken up in the hospital. And she was terrified of what would have become in some few years time.

Would she also have become dismissive? Or abus-

_No! **NO!**_ **_NO!_** **_NO!_**

There was an unsaid plead for a new start in her son's question.

How could she say no to that? Why would she say no to it?

And maybe. Just maybe. Things would work out.

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"The number you dialled has been changed, disconnected, or is no longer in service. If you feel have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again." The monotone voice echoed through the phone's speaker, practically taunting her with a prolonged beeping noise followed by the sound of static.

That had been the third time shed dialled the number. It was, without a doubt, the one Iemitsu had given her. It's company logo embellished at the top of the card, polished with a design one would expect from high, international companies.

She'd practically given up on Iemitsu, dialling the number at a daily bases out of habit (and perhaps some fullish loved filled hope) even as she knew he would never answer.

Because it didn't exist. Shed lost count as to how many times she'd repetitively called him, hoping beyond hope that she'd somehow repeatedly dialled the wrong number. Eventually going as far as to buy a computer to search for the companies web page in hopes of contacting one of his colleagues. The phone number hadn't changed.

It didn't exist.

_**Lies! Lies! Everything she had was built on lies!**_

And now, here she was, staring at the postcard that laid on the table, taunting her with its (disgusting) display of cheerfulness radiated from it. It was Tsu-Kun's birthday card.

She'd kept it ever since she'd returned home, hiding it in her bedtable drawer. Tsu-Kun didn't (at least not until recently,) hate his father. It had always been aching along the lines of avoidance and wariness, something that had immediately been passed onto Timoteo-san when he'd visited her family.

Not for the first time, she cursed herself for not keeping a closer eye on her son. They'd done something, she didn't know what or even how, but they had done something.

And things would burn when she found out what.

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By the time the new school year had started, their previous house was up for rent and boxes laid half unpacked all over the floor of their new home. An eight by eight meter-sized apartment. With one half beeing the kitchen and sitting room combined, and the other half being two bedrooms and a single bathroom. How Tsuna had found it for such small price was beyond her, but the fact that it was on the ground floor was not lost to her.

Tsuna himself was attending his first day at school, which left her in her new kitchen staring into thin space. She couldn't stand, needing a wheelchair to move around. But she hadn't realised that would directly translate to being unable to cook, at least efficiently.

It was humiliating! She was just barely starting to manage to move around without help. She still needed Tsuna to move on and off her wheelchair, she couldn't reach most of the shelves. Here she was, having thrown her life to be a Yamato Nadeshiko for Iemitsu, and now she couldn't even manage that... what did she have left now?

...her son.

She felt something spark inside her. Her son was the only one she had left, wasn't he? She slapped her cheek's as a determined gleam formed in her eyes. Then she would have to work through this.

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**Huh... I actually had this idea running in my head for years... **

**I'm honestly surprised it made it to a chapter. None the less, hoped you enjoyed it!**

**See you next time! Cyao!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Katekyo hitman reborn belongs to Akira Amano****, I only take credit for my own added character's and storylines. **

**BTW, I have a Ao3 account where I'm also publishing, if you prefer reading it there~.**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter 2 ~ Awakening the blood - II**

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She... took it relatively well.

At least with all things considered, she had.

Of course, being ready to jump up and catch her from falling from her chair probably wasn't saying much, but he would count his blessings when he got them. And, in his defence, explaining a somewhat-pyrokinesis ability that was mostly based on guesswork, a combination of facts and experimentation didn't usually lead to calmness. At all.

For starters, Somewhat-Pyrokinesis existed. Leading him to make the prudent assumption of the existence of others around the world.

Then there was the fact that, at least for him, it wasn't a _purely elemental_ ability. His complete change of **mentality** served as evidence of an existing link.

Fact three. There were other's aware of their existence. Enough of them to build a whole _society_ with kinesis at its core. That, added with the blurry memory of the man's (Mama had called him Timoteo?) ability to block his own implied an intellectual understanding on how they worked. Which left him with a vulnerable weakness of lack of knowledge.

Which created the fourth fact. He was starting to believe it wasn't as much fire as it was his life force shaping itself like a flame. He'd only been able to (re)start using them when he'd been a bullet away from death, which implied a will to live. Adding the experience of barely burning himself when he should have had second-degree burns created a rather overcomplicated amount of theories.

And then there was the historical based fifth fact. Or rather, WW3's end treaty that limited technological developments as well as it's controlled usage and distribution, all of which were heavily monitored.

Which hadn't had much of an objection, with the sheer amount of destruction the war had left in its wake, it'd been considered humanities best interest to stop the development of something that would embody doomsday.

An that was the problem. Criminal society (obviously) hadn't obeyed, continuing its development while the rest of the world remained at a near non-advancing age. Eventually reaching the point were removing said criminal society would cripple every other society link to it, which was practically all of them.

And he was now having the eerie feeling that there was more to its influence on society than just due to it's advanced technology.

Hed already figured that Iemitsu was involved in crime. Now It meant that Iemitsu was involved in an advanced technological crime society with an added flavour of kinesis based abilities.

Tsuna sighed, he was told enough to want a drink.

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"You... are aware that the minimum working age is fifteen, right?"

The woman was staring at him with an odd mixture of weariness and amusement. Which, granted, he could kind of understand, what with a pre-teenager asking for work just before nightfall...

...None the less.

He blinked owlishly. "So?"

"Kid, you barely pass for _half_ the age."

"...so?" He tilted his head, fake puzzlement on his expression as he stared at her.

"Why would you even want this job?" She throws her arms up into the air, an exasperated expression appearing on her features. "What kid in they mind wants to work? You that desperate for pocket money?"

"Mother's hospital bills, actually, and It's not like one needs a high (or any) qualification to wash dishes." He makes sure his head is still tilted, wide eyes with innocent as he stared at her hopefully.

"Yeah... I can belive the hospital bills, but you need more work on the eyes before pulling the innocent act." She adds with a snort.

Damn.

"And it's more than dishes. Can you clean? Organise the supplies? Can you cook?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fairly good." He answers immediately.

"You know what? Fine, you hired." She declares, slamming the folder down in expiration, hands reaching to rub her templates. "Worse than my daughter, this one." She mutters to herself in expiration.

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Nana might or might not be having a _small_ dilemma right now. She'd been attending her weekly appointment, a rather normal check-up that had by now integrated itself into her life.

And then her doctor had brought up the idea of having a support animal, something that would be in their range of being affordable while serving as both a physical and emotional support for herself and her son.

Until then, she'd held a confident stand in saying no. After the image of her son playing with a pet while giggling... maybe not so much.

And, as it turned out, the bloody doctors had already brought a dog for a test run, 'just a week', they said smiling with those **_creepy doctor_** smiles that promised being dissected or having your teeth pulled out while your mouth was drilled open.

And then she'd seen the support animal. The tiny thing was adorable, it's wide puppy eyes staring at her hopefully and ohhhh boy, she was in trouble. She was already taken for the idea and had no idea how to say no.

Granted, using the same emotional description as Iemitsu's was probably rather rude for the poor puppy. After all, the little thing was lovable! Surely it would move things for the better if it was also affordable?

She (probably) maybe shouldn't...

But the little thing was so cute!

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His face was wet.

It was dog _saliva._

Huh.

"...Mama?" Comes the bewildered question, originating from the floor as he stair's at the ball of fluff on his chest.

"It's a support animal the doctors recommended!" She explains with an _apologetic_ smile.

Which it isn't if the camera pointing towards him was any indication. She probably wasn't going to help him either, which left him in a rather difficult position.

See, Tsunayoshi has maybe (definitely) inherited his mother's love for anything cute, which left him somewhat unarmed to the ball of fluff that was their support animal.

"It's a golden retriever! They rather intelligent and affectionate." She explains cheerfully.

They also playfull and incredibly gentle with children. She adds mentally as she watches her son struggle with moving the tiny puppy. And most importantly, they eager to please, which would make it impossible for her son to say no.

Now that she was capable of complete clear thought, she was painfully aware that her son was incapable of making friends. It wasn't a matter of failed attempts or dislike, it was... it was more like they simply weren't compatible.

"Oh." Her now resigned son leans on the wall, petting the puppy with affection. "What's her name?" He asks curiously.

"I can't name for anything on this world!" She reminds him with a smile.

Tsuna momentarily stops, blinking at her before nodding and returning his concentration onto the puppy on top of him.

"Neither can I" He muses thoughtfully.

Oh...

Wops.

...like mother like son, right?

Teehee.

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Tsuna takes a sharp turn to his left, leaning on the wall as he allows himself a sharp inhaling of air. Exhaling shakily as he buries his bodies in the shadows of the building. His eyes dart towards the road, hand covering his mouth as he carefully looks for movement.

_**Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!**_

He should have dyed his hair last week when he had the chance, but he hadn't. He'd gotten complacent with the city's tranquillity, postponing the idea as he slowly lost himself in his ball of safety.

"-here? If he's the Young-Lion's son, then we should-"

"Silence!" A sharp voice cut's in, it's cold, but it carries a faint trace of excitement. The prospect of killing exited him, to the point that _he's chasing him through the tiniest rumours, for a child, because murder excites him._

Tsuna wants to _**vomit**_.

But he doesn't. He instead slowly slips into the abandoned building, immediately moving to the stair's as he concentrates on his pursuers.

He may have gotten complacent, but it hadn't reached the point of laziness. His first action when they'd arrived had been to map the whole city, memorising every advantage for both ambushing and hiding.

"Keep searching, he can't hide forever."

_{...left, carefully moving the door as their force it open, each holding a gun as they star entering the...}_

"Can't we just ask for support from the others?" A deeper voice asks hopefully.

"And let them take the credit for killing the Young Lion's son? He's a kid, and a civilian to boot, deal with him, NOW!"

Young Lion? Tsuna blinks, confusion on his feature's as he discreetly makes his way up the stair's in what he's sure used to be a hotel. Did they mean Iemitsu?

Damn, he needed to tell his mother that there were more of these people out there. He should have thought of buying a phone for both of them. Between moving region and worrying over everything, he'd stopped paying as much attention into the smaller details. And it was going to get. them. killed.

"He's inside here, look!" A voice shout's, causing Tsuna to momentarily tense as his eyes sharpen towards them.

They don't know where he is, they do know he is here but they don't know where he is. And... and he can use that.

_{The sun is setting, forming growing shadow's on the floors, on the walls and in the rooms. The first floor has too many windows, too much open space to hide successfully. The second floor, on the other hand, is much less bright. Planks cover the windows, furniture was thrown throughout the room and the faint rays of light would only serve as a distraction.}_

_{The building isn't stable, the men a weary of the building, but they're not particularly wary of him. They separating into groups, not particularly worried about an ambush, he's a child after all. One moves up the stairs as the...}_

**Concentrate!**

He moves behind the half held sofa, near enough to the darker shades of the shadows, eyes gleaming as the pair of men start searching thought the room.

Their backs are turned. In an instant, he's made a blow at the back of this neck, leaping immediately towards the second man, an award kick that lands on the man's stomach.

Because no matter how much a body develops, there are still part's that are severally vulnerable to any blow.

_{...starting to get impatient. Giving orders as the leader glares at them. One moves, asking him if they should...}_

He quickly hides both bodies, going through they blazer's as he makes a small pile at his side.

Staring solemnly, he realises that for how well they know, he has no idea how to use a gun, much less two... wasn't there supposed to be some sort of safety switch? And how did you reload theses?

He suddenly wishes hed paid more attention to the more violent game's he'd played with first-person shooters rather than the fantasy and sci-fi hed favoured...

_He grabs the knife and a gun, hiding everything else with the unconscious men as he swiftly stands._

_{...rather annoyed, walking up the stairs and hand slightly tense over his gun's handle. Unlike before, now there's a trace of weariness. There's no response, and that's worrying, the brats civilian raised, right?_

_One of the men carefully looks through the hall, letting out a breath as he turned to his companion. **"Maybe they-"**}_

"Maybe they just continued up?" A voice aks's from below.

"...then we follow." The other sais firmly, hand tightening as he takes lead.

Taking a shaky breath, he looks down the atrium, registering the remaining men before he quickly returns to the first problem in hand.

And he still had no idea how to use the gun. Maybe it was best to simply remain with what he had? It wasn't a good idea to experiment with something new when people were trying to kill him.

For a second, again, he loses himself, senses reaching out in ways they shouldn't.

_{...they move through the ground floor, two next to the entrance while another seven are expecting him to appear at any second. There was also a man, arms cross and radiating an increasing amount of irritation._

_And there's one more, walking outside and...}_

**Concentrate, damn it!**

He practically throws his body against the wall, head-turning, as the bullet passes through, where his chest had been an instant prior.

"WE **FOUND** HIM!"

He didn't know who, but if he died because of his instincts...

He rapidly recomposes himself, darting up the stairs as another bullet narrowly is missed. But it's too late, the man had gotten to close, and his long legs give him a deadly advantage on the stairs.

He feels an (expected) blow on his back, incapable of missing as he hit's the fence, _fracturing_ the glass, body struggles on the man that just body tackled him onto the wall.

The man's hands are _chocking_ him, his feet are lifted above the floor without any hope of reaching them for any support. His own hands reach for the one's chocking him, black dot's start to fill his **vision**, his mind is a little bit of a _dizzy_ place with the _increase put of info._

Out of an animalistic need to _survive_, he bites into the man's hand with enough force to taste **blood**. His hand's loosen, enough for a moment of _concentration_ as a _familiar_ _sunset-coloured_ **flame** emits from his own, smaller, hands.

"Argh! You little-!

He doesn't listen, hand reaching for his sleeve as he pulls out his knife. Using his whole body momentum, he slammed the man onto the fence, knife digging into his rib as _**blood** _spills onto him...

And _regrets_ it even before the knife is _unsheathed_, his mind instantly pointing out the fragile state of the fence.

And it _shatters_.

As both **fall** through the **atrium**.

In the smallest instant, Tsuna reflects. Only because he **knows where everything is going to be**, that doesn't mean that he can both **process** and **understand** them at the same instant.

And then, he **crashes** onto the ground, using the man's body as a _shield_ to decrease the damage of landing. None the less, he lets out a whimper, _pain_ crushing through him even though he knows he avoided breaking anything.

A moment of silence, his mind is frozen, failing to comprehend and react as everything transpires.

"How **irritating**." A dull voice echo's through the hall.

"Herbivores that form crowds." The voice muses, a predatory tone filled with... anticipation? "Whenever I see them all cleaning up together..." They pull out a pair of tonfa's, immediately slamming them on one of the men's face as they fall. "_**I bite them to death**_**.**"

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* * *

Kyouka liked to think that he was a fairly simple (almost) man. At least, as simple as a Carnivore _could_ be. He patrolled his territory, makes sure it's at a state he can consider acceptable, he likes sleeping, he likes heights, and most importantly, he likes spending time with his mother.

So, when he sees men in matching suit's chase after a child into an abandoned building (a hotel, a rather fragile-looking one at that), he feels a justiciable amount of irritation as he, once again (because Herbivores have really bad habit), finds himself making _peace_ in his territory.

Knocking out the men at the entrance is a swift action, sneering at the **arrogance** their likes can sometimes posses as he walks through the door.

Only to be completely _ignored_.

Elevated by some few floors, a man is chocking a child.

And he blinks.

Not at the act of violence. No, it's because of the child's reaction.

It's a similar ability that his uncle displayed. Different colour, yes, but he can remember his uncle's words, how he was only partially capable of using his own, and how it would take him years to reach a level where they were visible.

And then, his breath comes to a stop.

The child _snarls_, baring his canines into the man's hand, flame coming _**ablaze** _before he (recklessly) throws the man down the atrium and instinctively uses him as a shield.

He feels a _chill_ of excitement runt through his spine.

Because he's just found a cub to add to his **pack**.

* * *

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* * *

**I hadn't planned on continuing but... here it is! **

**Not that I'm not happy with it, it's more that I have no idea how to write pre-canon. So when I wasn't cringing each time I read it? Progress!**

**So I know how I want this to go, I'm just not quite sure how I want to write this. Disassociated soul Tsuna with (maybe) remnants of depression that can't understand what's happening was kind of thrown onto the table, so I thought 'why not?'. And then I realised I didn't understand much physiology...so...**

**Anyway, I realised I didn't put much warning tags as I wanted to, so they go here:**

**-Tsuna: In case it isn't obvious, Tsuna is kind of a kūdere here.**

**-Genderfluid Tsuna: Yes, there will be crossdressing.**

**-Different guardians: Some will be, some won't, and those that aren't will have (maybe) differences from canon.**

**-Cannon complaint: ...kind of? There will be differences but mostly until the future ac.**

**-Worldbuilding: Flames, technology. Fill in the gaps or straight out changing some facts.**

**-Relationships: Kind of? Experimenting and stuff? Meh...**

**-Gender: It's not going to only be male orientated. Kind of obvious with a genderfluid MC but Ill says it now anyway.**

**Last note: How was the combat scene? I really wasn't sure what I was doing, and after some few redo's, I got this. Thoughts?**

**Anyways, Ill See you next time! Ciao!**

**~ Sapphire and Emeralds**


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